


Eggplants Aren’t Supposed to Be Orange

by MythologyGirl



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, F/M, Not Beta Read, Sex for Information, Uniform Kink, sex in an alleyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythologyGirl/pseuds/MythologyGirl
Summary: Trading sex for information seems to be a hell of a deal for Stephanie Brown.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Slade Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	Eggplants Aren’t Supposed to Be Orange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scandalsavage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/gifts).



> Thank you to Scandal for cheering me on. Without you this fic would never have spiraled out. Also big thank you to Paper for helping me with the summary. 
> 
> ***This fic has yet to be edited and there may be a few changes at a later date.**

The world considered her a faceless statistic and Stephanie grew up wanting to prove the world wrong. She refused to go down the same path as her father, refused to give in to the pressure that growing up in the dark edges of Gotham put on her shoulders. What she didn't expect was for that determination to lead her _here._ A back alley that has probably seen more than its fair share of human indecency. . 

There was an old saying that "nothing in life was free" and that held true even with information and that's exactly what Stephanie needed and Deathstroke had. It's also what led her here to the middle of bumfuck nowhere squeezed back into her old Robin costume, her green clad legs wrapped high around Deathstroke's waist. 

Murder. 

Sex. 

It was all the same in Gotham. It only mattered which someone was more willing to do and Stephanie never really liked the thought of killing. She sure as hell liked what was going on now however.

Slade’s hands were on her hips, keeping her from grinding down against him, thumbs smoothing along the tight fabric of her red tunic as if he couldn’t decide to tear it off or continue with the cops and robbers kink. Steph didn’t know which one she wanted herself. She wasn’t even sure she cared.

"Not exactly the suit you fantasize over, but I work with what I got." Steph groaned as Slade bit his way down her neck. Her hands came to rest in his hair, tugging at the short strands when he began to suck. She tugged again, harder to make sure she had his attention. "Besides, Mr. I-Am-The-Night caught me when I tried to steal the panties."

"Not the suit," Slade straightened, his mouth detaching with an obscene pop. His gaze was heavy with heated hunger as he stayed fixated on her lips. . "I like my birds' mouthy."

Warmth poured from her heart into her gut as she felt something primal take over her. An odd sense of pride and want shooting through her as his words reverberated in her mind. She darted forward to bite hard at Slade’s bottom lip, running her tongue over the small puncture her teeth made. It was a heady feeling being able to make him groan, no matter how light the sound was. 

~~She tired not to think of any of the others who had worn the R having pulled that sound from him before.~~

"Tweet, tweet." Steph nearly sang as she leaned back with an impish grin, her cheeks flush with desire. The metallic flavor of his blood was strong on her tongue.

Slade growled, his own mouth painted a dark, wet red. The cut was already healing and would probably be gone in the next minute, but there was no denying in that moment she had marked him. That she had challenged him.

And Deathstroke never backed down from a challenge. Not from her anyway. It’s what made their deal fun.

She hissed when he dragged her down against the bulge in pants, his armor digging almost painfully into her skin. She rolled her hips, enjoying the slight bite of discomfort, to feel the outline of his cock.

"S-slade," She moaned, throwing her head back, nearly braining herself against the brick wall he held her against. 

"There's my song," Slade purred, triumphant. One of his hands crawled up her side stopping to completely engulf one of her breasts in his palm. "You always sing so prettily for me baby girl."

"Are you surprised?" Steph sassed, raising a thin brow. Her snark falling away to a cry as he rubbed her nipple roughly over the coarse fabric of her uniform, the warmth of his skin seeping through. She arched, pushing her chest firmly into his hold.

"No. You birds always carry the best tunes," Slade chuckled. He leant forward, licking up her throat, nipping at her chin. "Can see why the big Bat keeps you all in his flock." 

Stephanie scowled, reaching up she placed her hand over his face and pushed his head back as far as she could, taking pleasure in his surprised grunt. She tightened her legs around his waist to keep her balance as he took a step back, no longer supporting her weight. She tried not to think about how they barely made it around his thick muscle as she placed her hands on his shoulders, using the leverage to lift herself up in order to glare directly into his eye. 

"Don't. I'm not Batman's slut and I don't need to know what you get up to with the others." She hissed, pinching his cheek and pulling. Another time it might have been comical to have the world's greatest hitman in such a position, but at the moment Steph was too steamed to see the humor. "Either you respect that or you're not getting any. I don't give a single care to whatever info you have."

She managed to suppress a flinch when Slade gripped her wrist, the weight of what she'd just done falling heavy on her consciousness. Horror crept up her spine; her blood turning cold as Gotham Harbor as she watched him with wide, panicked eyes. 

"Sorry," Steph squeaked, sure her death was imminent. Her breath caught when Slade turned his head, teeth digging into her palm. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her gut. “Did you just bite me? Are you a cannibal? Is this how I’m going to die? Devoured by Deathstroke?”

“You really want to keep talking nonsense?” Slade nipped her palm again, an arm sneaking around her back to pull her flush against him. He rolled his hips, “Or would you like to use it to be a bit more productive?”

Stephanie wheezed, her crotch pulsed at the feel of his erection rubbing against her slit. Her green leggings started to feel more than a bit damp. “Right, I’m going to stop talking now.”

She unwound her legs from Slade's waist and let her feet drop against the grimy ground of the alley. Her hands slowly trailed down Deathstroke's armor until her hand cupped his cock, ignoring her surprise over the lack of cup, giving it a playful squeeze. It was hot against her palm, her mouth watering at how her fingers barely managed to wrap around it.

At Slade's impatient growl, Steph smirked, giving his cock one final squeeze before she dropped to her knees. She cringed when something wet soaked into the fabric of her costume and spread her legs hoping to get them out of the mystery substance, cringing when the material pulled against the movement.

God, she really hoped it wasn’t someone’s drying fluids. There was no way she could keep Bruce from getting even more suspicious if she tried to return her old suit smelling like piss. It’s not like she could afford the drying cleaning bill to get the stench out.

Fingers suddenly gripped her hair, shocking her from here wondering thoughts. She winced, scalp burning slightly when Slade tugged her forward until her nose almost brushed his straining penis. 

“It's about time you started making good on your end of the deal.” Slade’s grip tightened briefly before he released her hair, smoothing down the messy strands. It sent a bolt of desire straight down Stephanie’s gut at the gentle touch. Before their agreement she would have laughed at anyone that told her Deathstroke the Terminator had a soft bone in his body. After the several encounters they’ve had though, Steph would almost say Slade was sweet. In his own asshole sort of way.

“Impatient much,” Steph cooed, nuzzling her nose against his cock. She leaned back with a laugh, reaching about to grip his thighs. It was a test of strength not to let her hands wonder further to grope his ass. Slade hadn’t liked that the first time she tried it. “I can’t get to work if you don’t give me the old tool.”

With a snort, Slade helped her quickly find and unbuckle the catches, shimmying his pants down . His erection slapped her cheek lightly as it sprang from the tight confines of his pants. She rubbed her cheek against the shaft as she used one hand to lift his balls, rolling them teasingly in her palm.

She turned her head to give the base a wet kiss, snickering when she felt it twitch against her lips. "Someone's excited to see me." Steph flicked her tongue to give it a teasing lick along the vein. Her fingers flexed, nails biting into the exposed skin of his hips. “A little eager tonight aren’t you. When’s the last time you got some?” 

A displeased grunt sounded above her, Slade’s hand finding its way back into her blond locks to give a sharp pull. “One more word out of you and I choke you on my cock pretty bird.”

“And here I thought you liked the sound of my voice,” Steph said. She flicked the head of his cock, watching as it bobbed and smirking at his slight hiss. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t be able to choke me with Deathstroke Jr. here.” She moved her hand to grip the base of his dick, her smile turning teasing. “I’ve grown used to breathing around cocks larger than this old boy.” She tugged, ”I’ve dated Red Robin after all and I hate to burst your ego, but his package is bigger.”

She hollowed her cheeks, teeth grazing across the upper part of his cock as she bobbed her head a few more times. Each time allowing the head to hit the back of her throat before pulling back to tease his slit more.

Steph shifted higher on her knees, releasing her hold on his cock, until her clothed breast could press easily against the root of Slade’s penis. The tight material of her tunic strained against the pressure as she pushed her boobs together, trapping Slade’s cock between them. She swirled her tongue around the head of Slade’s dick and dipped it briefly in the slit, humming at the salty taste of precum. In the next moment, she widened her mouth, easily swallowing Slade down until her nose was buried in his pubic hair.

"There's a good girl," Slade praised, calloused fingers scraped against her skull. He bucked his hips forward into the tight cave of her breasts, grunting at the feel of the soft fabric scratching against the sensitive skin of his erection. He didn’t bother to ask her to remove the top or lube himself up. Steph figured he liked the chaff, healed quick enough not to bother him for too long and the man did seem to enjoy a bit of pain.

The words encouraged her to go faster, moaning as another burst of precum coated her mouth. Need thrummed between her thighs as she suckled on the tip trying to get more of Slade’s heady taste. She could tell he was getting close when his slow, deep thrusts began to pick up pace.

She was proven right when Slade’s fingers twisted in her hair and held her head still. With a few more powerful thrust, his hips stuttered and he pulled out as thick spurts of cum began to shoot from his dick, half of it landing on her face. 

It honestly shouldn’t have been a surprised to Stephanie during the first encounter when the man cummed within the first 15 minutes, the bastard was an impatient fuck. But, what Steph learned while the man was quick to shoot his load, he was also quick to get it right back up. He certainly never left her dissatisfied. 

“Ugh,” Steph whined as she let go of her boobs, to wipe away the cum dripping off her chin onto the costume’s embossed R. “You’ve gotten it dirty.”

“You’re complaining?” Slade lifted a brow, tugging slightly on her hair to get her to stand. She followed the nonverbal instruction with ease, her knees popping as she stood. He cupped one of her cheeks, smirking when she leaned into the touch, and wiped some of his release with his thumb to smear against her lips.

“Only if you’re not ready for round two,” Steph said, the need between her legs an instant throb. She palmed at Slade’s already half hard cock. The deal was she only had to get him off once, but getting the information she wanted could wait for one more round. “Then I might have to file a complaint with your manager.”

Slade smirked as he ripped her tunic open as if it were soggy paper. “Little bird, I’m ready to go all night.”


End file.
